


Making love while I'm making good money

by Narryfavoritejiall



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bottom Peter Parker, Don't Judge Me, Drug Use, Forced Crossdressing, Just Tony is famous and rich, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Peter and Liz are the best of friends, Peter is 18 so probs underage, Prostitution, Protective Tony Stark, Sexual Abuse, Tony Stark Has A Heart, and what not, so fucked up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-07 12:17:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11623365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narryfavoritejiall/pseuds/Narryfavoritejiall
Summary: It wasn't convenient that he found a young looking boy -probably 19?- in his close friend Natasha's 'Whore house', and it so wasn't convenient that he picked him for the night and didn't felt guilty when he stared at the delicate face, but his chest clenched at the bruises and scratches.Or, Tony Start -The Tony Stark- founds himself falling for the broken boy living in the brothel.





	1. O N E

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> I've got this idea of a song named in my feelings by lana del rey so if you wanna understand a little more the plot for this you should check it out. 
> 
> This story contains drugs, alcohol, prostitution, abuse and underageish? Peter in here is 18 almost 19. So if you don't feel comfortable reading, do not read:) 
> 
> I don't have a single clue how brothel works,this is all in my imagination so, excuse me if there is something wrong or ignorant.
> 
> Also! English is not my first language so feel free to correct me if there are any mistakes.
> 
> Hope you enjoy:)

_Blue Swallow Motel._

_Open Vacancy._

 

The  _Vacancy_ sign was twinkling in red neon lights, seeming the only bright light in the night atmosphere, the lonely road with only just a few cars passing by quickly made Peter's curly hair fly around in a mess as he waited in the sidewalk, his brown eyes struggled to stay wide and alert, the redness caused by earlier actions was not going away, his system practically was ordering sleep and rest but he kept his legs straight until he saw he expensive car- that he still didn't knew the brand or model- nor he did care, really.

 

Peter sighed and watched the car pulled over just a bit away from him, he walked to the grey car, his body aching in pain but he put a playful smile- that was actually genuine in knowing who was driving the car, "May I help you, sir?," He rested his hands in the roof and ducked his head when the window rolled down.

 

"Get in the car," The man inside with rolled his eyes but smiled a little, turning his head to looked infront of him.

 

"What kind of services do you want from me?," The brown haired boy suppressed a laugh in his throat. 

 

"You make me drive to the most rotten part of New York full with clamidia rats," Tony said as he gave him a look strech his arm to open the door, "Get in, kid." 

 

Peter opened the door and sat in the small car harshly, "Are rats clamidia carriers?"

 

"They're rats. They're carriers of everything nasty." 

 

"Like you?," Peter giggled and punched his shoulder softly.

 

"And remember, I'm driving the car so I can just leave you in that alley over there," The older man faked a frown and pointed outside of the window after shooting him a smile and a wink. 

 

Peter bite his lip, watching the lonely black street, his hands clench and unclench, the smell of aftershave of the man he was at in the motel was still lingering -quite strongly- in his skin and clothes, he hoped for the other man beside him not to notice or comment about it, his cheek hurted for an 'accidental' slap his client gave him and his hair was still damp, he turned his head to ignored his thoughts and looked at the other's perfil.

 

"Thanks for picking me up, Mr Stark." 

 

The older man raised his eyebrows and clicked his mouth, " _Tony,_ you know that, kid." 

 

"I know," The short boy smiled, "I just like fucking with you." 

 

"I know that." Tony smirked and looked at him briefly.

 

"Ugh, you're so full of yourself," The boy groaned. 

 

The fell in silence, the roar of the car when its pedal was pushed was the only sound besides their constant breathing, the few people hanging out in the poor district stared at the fancy car with cigarettes hanging of their mouths and cheap beer.

 

"Are you going to Natasha's place?" Tony's mumbled echoed in the silence, seeming loud- and the word _**brothe** **l**_ went missing in the question and Peter appreciates how the man always avoid that word or seems uncomfortable saying it.

 

The younger boy hummed, "Can you drop me there?" 

 

"I can," The man smiled at him and patted the other's legs softly.

 

Peter grabbed the large hand on his tigh before the other could remove it, he held in front of his face, making it touch his cheek, "I miss you, Tony," The boy kissed the rough palm and then each knuckle, he then licked tenderly his fingertips and sucked on one finger.

 

"Kid-," Tony breathed out and tried to pull his hand away. 

 

"Don't call me that," The brown haired boy bit his finger.

 

"You're gonna make me crash, Peter." 

 

"Can you pull over?" Peter whispered and leaned over to him, grabbing the other's crotch vulgarly and kissing his neck.

 

"Peter, come on, it's ok, kid," The man mumbled and caressed the hand on him, trying to take it away, "You don't have to do that."

 

"Just pull over, it'll be quick." The boy mouthed at the side of his face.

 

"I didn't come and get you in exchange of anything, I-"

 

Peter pulled away and searched for the soft brown eyes, he kissed the corner of his mouth, "I know, I want to do this, yeah?" He whispered, "I want you." 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. T W O

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Fine," Peter kissed him harshly and then mumbled against his lips, "I gotta get dressed and go downstairs, Tony." 
> 
>  
> 
> "I know, I know," He said calmly, "Go, kid. Just take care."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment if you like it guys! 
> 
> Enjoy:)
> 
> Warnings: mention of drugs, alcohol, forced crossdressing and obvs sex.

_"You came here late, sneaking inside like a teenage runaway."_

 

Peter turned around with his hand on his chest and leaned on the wall behind him, staring at a full lips smiling, he whispered yelled, "Jesus fuck, Liz.  _What the fuck?._ "

 

"You owe me one," The brown girl said crossing his arms and sitting on the individual bed in the side of the room, "I covered your ass when Natasha came to our room to check up." 

 

The short boy sighed and dropped his bag on the ground, taking his shirt off and walking to the other bed, "What did you tell her?" 

 

"That you text me saying," She raised here eyebrows and made quoting motions with her hands, "You still were out with that old perv who booked you." 

 

"Was she mad?."

 

"Who? Natasha?," Liz asked.

 

"No, the fucking fucking doorman," Peter scoffed and turned his head to rolled his eyes at her, "Yes, Natasha." 

 

"No, asshole, she wasn't mad," The brown haired girl rolled her eyes too and flipped him off, "She actually told me to text you that she could send a cab to get you." 

 

Peter smirked, dropping his jeans to the floor and walking to the drawers were his clothes were, "I guess somehow she cares about us." 

 

"About  _our_ money, boy," Liz corrected him and laid down heavily on the bed.

 

"Perhaps," The brown eyes boy shrugged and pulled a loose hoodie over his head, adjusting his black boxers and lowering a bit down his legs, "I'm so fucking tired." 

 

"Now, are you gonna tell me what are you late?."

 

"Guess who was my taxi," The boy walked to her bed and lied down on his stomach, watching deep brown eyes staring at him with a funny stare.

 

"What did you do?," Liz smiled and punched his shoulder.

 

"I called Stark." 

 

The girl sat up with wide eyes and whispered yelled, "Are you still seeing him, you little fucker?."

 

"I can't resist," Peter sighed and rested his head on the bed, "He's so good to me." 

 

"But, like, he doesn't books you with Natasha?" The brown girl frowned, "Are you making money outside from here?"

 

The short boy raised his head quickly and shook it, " _No!._ "

 

"Then what the fuc-." 

 

"Sometimes he picks me up when is too late, that's all," The boy shrugged, his words muffled by the bed sheets.

 

" _That's all_." Liz raised and eyebrow.

 

-

 

The dimmed lights was making his gaze blurry and his hands relaxed, his head stopped pounding when a girl that Peter couldn't remember the name handed him 'painkillers' and some cheap liquor, his eyes were half closed as he watched the men in the room interacting with young girls and boys like him, some were talking to Natasha and laughing. Natasha was a strong woman who he didn't knew much about, he just admired the bright red hair, pale skin and slim complexion, some girls despise her because of her harsh and rude persona, but Peter actually kinda liked her because sometimes Natasha acts like she cares about him-  _or_ maybe she does.

 

"I fucking hate this shorts," The brown eyed boy groaned and sat down on the big couch in the middle of the room, he pulled at the tight leather shorts his boss made him wear.

 

"Tell me about it," Liz sent him a bored expression.

 

"My balls are gonna fall off," He slurred and rested his head on the back of the couch, listening vaguely at Liz laughing.

 

"Are you ok?" She asked, pinching the skin on his arm.

 

"I'm fucking uncomfortable," Peter mumbled and pointed at the corset, hugging tightly his torse, "I just wanna put on some sweats and sleep on that shitty bed- that, seems  _so_ desirable right now." 

 

The girl smiled sadly at him and patted his leg covered in glitter - _And, when did he got glitter on his legs?-,_ "We just gotta go through this night and then we can sleep, Petey." 

 

Peter nodded, crossing his arms, the fancy music matching the fancy looking men, seem distant and his heart beat faster at whatever that girl gave him, he would start hyperventilating, but he didn't want to draw attention, his fingers shook and the clothes Natasha made him put on, felt like it was suffocating his skin and cutting circulation, he broke eye contact whenever he found an old man staring at him with nothing but,  _disrespect_ and  _wantom._ The boy shifted uncomfortably and took more sips of the glass of whiskey on his hand, Natasha let them drink whenever they were feeling tense, and,  ** _goddamn_** , he was feeling tense with those clothes; maybe he didn't like his boss that much.

 

"Oh," He turned around when his friend mumbled and smiled a little when a good looking man took her hand and made her stand up.

 

"Bye," She quickly looked at him and started walking away with the young man, "Don't drink to much, Peter." 

 

"Have fun," The shorter boy muttered and smiled at a girl in a tight dress -everyone was wearing something tight- and sat down beside him. 

 

The brown eyes boy finished his drink quickly and crossed his legs, hoping to stay out of the eyes of the people in the room, he hoped to stay without a client tonight and go to sleep without pain on his body, he saw his other friends in the corner inhaling secretly the white substance he sometimes consumed with them, he was thinking about standing up and join them but a man was walking towards him with a smirked and blonde hair thrown back, he huffed and accommodated slightly in the warm couch, the man came clear to his glassy eyes and he smiled -at _least he wasn't an old creep_ ,  _cheers._

 

"Why are you alone?" 

 

Peter looked up to find blue eyes and raised his eyebrows, "Guess haven't been lucky tonight."

 

"Well yeah, you aren't in a great view from this place," The handsome man -to Peter- sat down beside him, close and rested and arm in the back of the couch were the boy's shoulders were by, "If I hadn't turned around to get a drink, I wouldn't have seen you, sitting here like a lost puppy." 

 

The brown haired boy scoffed, "Like a lost puppy?" 

 

"Are you?" 

 

Peter stared at him and opened his legs slowly, his right touching the other's man leg, he lifted his hand and played numbly with his tie, brown eyes focusing and unfocusing, his tongue was dry and his body was getting warm, "What I look like to you?" 

 

The man smiled awkwardly and sighed, turning his head around to get distracted, his thumb caressed the pale thigh, almost being unnoticed by the boy, "Do you have a free room?."

 

The boy smiled and got closer, breathing in the man face and the pulling away, opening his legs more, taking the other's hand that was moving slowly on the inside of his leg, he held in both hands and played with the fingers, "It depends on what do you want."

 

"You know what I want." 

 

"No," Peter mumbled and looked at the blue eyes, "There are a lot of things we could do in that room, sir." 

 

"Then, we'll do all of them, boy," The blond man smirked and took his hand away to caress tenderly his cheekbone.

 

"That would be a lot of money," The brown haired boy shrugged. 

 

" _Oh,_ I've got money." 

 

"Yeah," Peter laughed drunkenly, "And what do you wanna do in that room, sir?."

 

"Well-."

 

The boy interrupted him by stretching his body and starting to climb in the man's legs, brown eyes never leaving blue eyes, "Do you wanna touch me?," He straddled his legs and gripped the other's arm to guide them around his waist, "Do you wanna look at me without clothes?" 

 

"Yeah," The man got closer and sniffed at his neck and lick softly, before being pushed away by Peter.

 

"Do you want me to dance for you, sir?," Peter held the man's face in a tight grip, "Do you want to fuck me?" 

 

"What room are we-."

 

_"Steve."_

 

Peter pulled away and looked behind him when the voice of Natasha came loudly in their ears, he saw-  _Steve?-_ smiled at her and tightened the hold on his waist, "Natasha, my love, could you get us a room?" 

 

"That's the thing, come here," She smiled tightly and motioned with his hand to stand up.

 

"What is it?," Steven asked and let go of the boy.

 

"Peter get off of Mr. Rogers, please," Natasha said loudly and step closer. 

 

Peter sighed and sat down on the couch rapidly, watching the man standing up and walking towards the woman, he frowned when she pulled him closer, like wanting to avoid the boy from hearing their words, but he listened anyway, the low mumbled sounding hazy in his head.

 

"I've got someone perfect for you in a room," Natasha smiled and tried to pull at his arm and walk, but Steve didn't moved and pointed at the boy staring at them.

 

"Yeah, but, I kinda want him," He raised his eyebrows.

 

The woman sighed and looked at Peter for a few seconds and then turned towards the man, she muttered, "He's already booked, Steve,"

 

Natasha called for a girl standing close to them and mumbled to her to take him to the room with the person waiting for him, "Sorry, maybe the next time you come around, just give me a call and I can booked Peter for you, yeah?" 

 

The boy stood up with weak legs and stared at the man smiling at him quickly and then walking away with the girl, he rolled his eyes when the the red haired woman talked for a moment with a man and cursed under his breath because he hoped to fuck that it wasn't that old guy she was talking to that booked him, the man walked away and the woman turned around with pursed lips, he was expecting a yell and scold, but he sighed instead.

 

"Peter," Natasha smiled with closed lips and took his arm in a soft grip, "Mr. Stark is here tonight and he's waiting for you in the main room."

 

Fuck. He  _loved_ the main room. 

 

It was the room Natasha always gave to important people, it was big, clean and smelled good, something not all rooms in the big house were alike and,  _jesus,_ Tony was there.

 

"I'm going up," Peter nodded and tried to walk past her and to the stairs.

 

"Wait." 

 

He turned around quickly and stared at green eyes, his arms crossed when Natasha rolled her eyes and walked towards him with fast steps, "You always ruin your makeup."  _makeup-_ Liz only put shitty eyeliner smudged in his eyes and lipstick to 'make his lips look bigger'. Peter sighed and accepted his boss' hand wiping the corner of his eyes and mouth.

 

"There," She said proudly and pulled back some curls on his head, then looked down at his body, "You look presentable, go. Don't forget to smile and say thank you to Mr. Stark." 

 

Peter nodded again and and turned around with a pounding head, he walked made his way quickly to the main room, his heart beat faster at the thought of the older man, his mind already forgetting the disappointment of not hooking up with Steve, he gave fast steps up the stairs, he was getting dizzy but he ignored when he enter the room without knocking.

 

"Jesus, kid, you scared the shit out of me." Tony stood up rapidly from the bed. 

 

The boy slammed the door and jogged towards him with a smile, he jumped when he was closed, wrapping his arms around the wide shoulders and hugging his hips with his lithe legs.

 

"I _miss_  you, Tony." 

 

-

 

Tony caressed his face with tender fingers and Peter felt his thumb wiping at his thin lips for a moment until he knew there wasn't any lipstick left on him, the older man pulled away and pulled at his black shorts, "Take all this crap off your body. Natasha still makes you wear this?" 

 

The boy nodded and undressed quickly, the arousal growing when he watched Tony taking of his grey jacket and unbuttoned the white shirt, "Clients like it."

 

"Well,  _I_ don't like it," The brown haired man raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, "I like you more with your normal clothes and with that crap of your face." 

 

"I don't like it either," Peter rolled his eyes and stood in just his underwear, "But, you're not the only client, Tony."

 

The older man nodded and hugged the boy close to him, their bodies getting warm when their mouths kissed again, Peter breathed against his mouth when he felt the other's boner poking his leg, he pushed him until they fell on the plush bed, hands gripping eachother and the younger boy knew by how things were taking off, they were going to end quickly and desperately. 

 

"Take them off," Peter mumbled in the other's neck while gripping his cock through his pants, "Come on." 

 

"You're a brat," Tony smiled against his cheek and took his jeans off with a struggle. 

 

"I'm so hard, Mr. Stark," The brown haired boy moaned lowly as he laid beside the man and took his underwear off.

 

"Where's the lube?" The older man huffed as he got in between his legs, kissing his chest while he moved a hand towards his ass, rubbing and caressing until he found his hole and applied pressure with his finger against it. 

 

Peter threw his heas back and shook his head, "Fuck that, just put the condom on." 

 

Tony kissed his cheeks and forehead and then speak up breathlessly, "Are you loose down there?" 

 

"God, you said it like if you were a doctor," The pale boy winced and smacked the back of hus head, "Just fuck me." 

 

The man smiled and grabbed a condom that apparently was laying in the bed; Peter lifted himself a little and rested on his elbows, widening his legs more and looking down were the other was putting on the condom calmly, he sighed and rubbed his own cock to calm down a little and not snap at the older man to hurry up. 

 

"Ok," Tony mumbled and got closer, resting a hand beside his head and guiding his dick inside quickly, but stopping for a few seconds before continuing.

 

"Shit," Peter took a deep breath and laid back again, bringing a leg towards his chest and hugging it tight, "Come one, move, it's ok." 

 

Tony nodded but then stopped until he was all the way inside, he groaned slightly and hid his face on the boy's sweaty neck, "I can wa-." 

 

"I'm ok, I'm ok," The brow haired boy whispered dumbly and nodded his head rapidly, he pushed his hips against the other and hugged his back with one arm.

 

Tony moved fast and quickly, hitting harshly his prostate when Peter told him to move to the right, the wet sound of skin against skin, mouth against mouth and moans mixing with groans were echoing in the big room, the noises from the next room were surpassed by theirs, or -maybe they weren't, but it felt  _like it._ \- The man gripped the leg laying carelessly against the sheet by them, he made it hug his waist and dig in the small of his back.

 

"Tony — god — _Tony_ — fast, fast, I'm —  _Ah!,_ " Peter arched his back and moved his hips back, "There, fuck me there, Tony." 

 

The boy let go of his leg and let the man rested it on his shoulder, the angle sending shivers up his arms and back, his upper body and hips moved involuntary, twitching everytime his prostate got stimulated, he turned his head and buried his face on the strong arm resting there, he bit it desperately when he moved faster and his body was slowly moving  _almost_  painfully against the bed, his vision was cloudy everytime he looked up and stared at the handsome face above, his sharp beard and brown eyes staring at him as plump lips whispered words, he gave little sighs and his abdomen trembled.

 

"You're kind of a sight, kid, _fuck_  — are you coming?," The man mumbled and mouthed at his cheek and corner of his lips.

 

"Stay there, stay there," Peter gasped as he tensed the leg hugging the other's back and made him stay pressed deep inside him, he moved his hand up and down quickly on his own cock while his hips moved in circles, he whined in between words, "Fuck — I — stay there, I'm coming, Tony." 

 

The older man moved his hips slightly in, pushing at him and kissing his neck and nipping at his jaw, he whispered hotly against the damp skin, "You look so pretty, baby." 

 

Peter clenched his eyes and his stomach trembled like his legs and his movements became dumb, "Fuck," he whimpered, almost passing unnoticed, but his hips snapped up and he gave breathless sighs and moans when his orgasm hit him, he kissed Tony messily as he stopped touching his cock and juat welcomes the movements of the other's hips. 

 

"Christ, Peter," The man mumbled and pulled out, taking off the condom and starting to jack off quickly, "You're gonna be the death of me." 

 

The younger boy would've told him that keep going inside him, but he was wrecked and oversensitive, he sat up, kissing him and making him rest on the sheets as he straddled only one leg, and make the man move his hand away as he instead started moving his hand up and down quickly on his large dick, applying pressure on his head as he laid half on his chest and kissed with opened mouth and messy tongues.

 

Peter smiled against his lips and bit them when Tony groaned and gripped his asscheek from behind and came quickly, his cum staining his hand and own stomach, "That was fast." 

 

"God, well, I've got this young boy laying with me and jacking me off like his life depended on it - _and_ , that, by the way, that said boy came really fast on his hand too," The brown eyed man smiled lazily as he patted his ass and then hugged his waist.

 

The younger boy sat up and licked the palm of his hand were the cum was and then leaned down to licked at the other's belly too, "Is that your kink? Young boys?," He smiled after finishing.

 

"Don't make it weird," The man muttered as he rubbed his face tiredly.

 

Peter got on his hand and knees and lowered his head to kiss the man, "When are you coming again?" 

 

"I don't know, I'm gonna be kinda occupied this few weeks, so I don't promise anything." 

 

The pale boy nodded and licked the parted lips twice, "Can I see you outside from here?."

 

Tony stared at him and nodded slowly and then frowned, "Does Natasha knows?." 

 

"No! And don't tell her," He hissed. 

 

"Chill it, kid," The man whispered and rubbed his back with calloused hands tenderly, "Just give me a call, yeah?." 

 

"Fine," Peter kissed him harshly and then mumbled against his lips, "I gotta get dressed and go downstairs, Tony." 

 

"I know, I know," He said calmly, "Go, kid. Just take care."

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are grammatical mistakes, is kinda late and I'm tired, and thanks for the ones who commented in the first chap!


	3. T H R E E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony would never disrespect Peter like that, he still can see a family boy, that likes going to the cinema with friends and buying Paninis at a corner of Queens, with a 'normal' life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Booyahhh 
> 
> Hope you like it! This is from Tony's pov.
> 
> Btw, I'm gonna leave this link https://youtu.be/NkLPSqPT2zI is a song by Teen Suicide- No, the moon.
> 
> You should listen to it when Tony's and Peter's part when they're together comes almost at the end, because I mention something about the radio playing a song. 
> 
> I think that song fits really well with the part and the lyrics suit the feelings, Idk, give it a try and you'll see that is kinda nice listening to it while reading.
> 
> Warnings: slight sexual content.

_Fuck that._

 

No, like seriously.  ** _Fuck that._**

 

Tony hang up on Pepper yelling and swearing at him, he could almost see her blue eyes turning red and mouth pursing, the house -mansion- felt horribly silent and dead after he hung up, his mind was blank and his ears weirdly felt empty, but, calm filled his body too, when he sighed to calm down and leaned on the counter to finish processing  _her_ words, her crude, rude, harsh — _that,_ were  _so, so_ fucking true— words, that send tingle and sense of madness up his spine and head, the guilt, that he couldn't feel, but she want  _him_ to feel, was non-existent. He  ~~didn't~~ couldn't feel regret or passion, for that matter.

 

Only brown eyes, unwrinkled fair skin, golden curls -that were  **so** hard not to pull-, slim body, that somehow managed to be boyish, but never too manly, just the enough tenderness and the enough roughness.  _That,_ were the only things that triggered him and send him looking for more.

 

The judging eyes of her ex-wife/ex- assistant, when she first caught him that almost every weekend, —scratch that—  _every_ weekend, went to the brothel that his friend just opened, to hang with his buddies and get a good stare of the workers there, because,  _why not?._

 

Tony should've never had to explain himself as to why he went there, they weren't together anymore and certainly didn't want to do anything with eachother's business,  _but,_ he still was a decent man and explain himself, mostly because he didn't want her to say crap behind his back and create rumors like;  _Extra, Extra, Tony Stark caught clamidia at a brothel,_ or,  _Extra, Extra, the multi-billionaire just went from fancy to trashy, goddamn._

 

And, when Pepper found out that indeed he was fucking, not just  _staring,_  at someone in Natasha's brothel and that, it wasn't any person, it was a **_boy_** and wasn't even _**above twenty**_ , she freaked out, called him a creep, _smashed_ his favorite set of liquor and demanded a logical explanation, even when.

 

— _'Pepper, sweetheart, there's no logical fucking explanation and plus, we're not together anymore'—_  

 

A whole lot of explaining to her and calming her down was thrown at 3:00 AM a couple of months ago, afraid that a scandal could come out of her mouth out of rage, like, his name appearing on the front page of New York's Time, saying that he was —fucking a teenager, fucking an underage—, or Extra, Tony S. raped a school boys with brown eyes and,  _shit, with good, good looking legs._

 

She was capable of saying that kind of crap just to drag him and his company down, but it never happened, because she insisted after a while that his problems were his problems and that her problems were her problems and that she didn't care anymore who he fucked or what he fucked, just that Tony didn't dragged her name into any drama, it was going to be just fine. 

 

But, in that period of fights and fear, he never felt guilt of seeing Peter, never once he regret it, yeah, the first times he entered the room with the boy or placed him on the back of his car, he felt weird and maybe even like it wasn't himself -or maybe he was the real him when Peter was around- the constant thought of  _'jesus fuck, I'm actually fucking a kid that barely finished highschool',_ drifted away when he saw no care in the young boy when he looked at him with dirty, old eyes from across the room, or when Peter kissed him with such an unbelievable experience and confident touches, he just couldn't help not feel remorse.

 

So when, Pepper called him that morning, yelping with despise of how could Tony be capable of driving a prostitute around town and accepting a prostitute in the house that once was  _their_ house, of how could he be capable of worrying for a person that gave certain services, and Tony for moment, _dear Lord,_ thought that some pictures were thrown to the public eye and that his nightmare of appearing in the front page of New York's time with a captious title and explicit photograph, actually came true. But, no, there weren't pictures, there weren't extras, there weren't questions by annoying reporters, just a simple: ' _Obadiah told me, Anthony!'._

 

And, of course Obadiah told her that, he should've known when the man when his old -used to be- friend went to Pepper's side and, apparently was against Tony's, when he caught a sight of Obadiah in the brothel, he didn't mind or nor did he cared that he was hanging around with some girls with exaggerated makeup, Tony didn't mind him at all, at the end of the day that man was just as sick and fucked up in the head or even more than Tony was. 

 

Tony at least still had some kind of humanity, even if it doesn't seem like it, but of what he saw for accident a few times at Natasha's business, he saw Obadiah been the same arrogant, prepotent  ~~piece of shit~~ man that everybody knew, mostly with the girls and boys working in the brothel, he was just mean and loud, treating them as toys and objects, because, anyways, they were just  _prostitutes—_ Tony once heard him say solely.

 

He thanked whoever up in the sky, that Obadiah hasn't had have the interest or the mind to share a glance to Peter, but maybe he as now that he told Pepper who he was hanging around with. 

 

Tony didn't even want to think about the man wanting the boy for a night, just for the single fact to kick Tony in the balls, he didn't want to imagine the disgusted expression in Peter's face or the bruises that could be left in his his body, just of imagining Obadiah calling Peter despicable names and insults as he touches him, like the same way he did with the others in the brothel.

 

From the time that Tony has being doing things with Peter, he has never,  _never_ said the word  _prostitute -_ infront of him of course-, even though the boy was that indeed, he wouldn't never dare to call that or other synonyms at Peter's way, not even in his moments of rage and madness when he sees red and want to scold at the boy when he is high as a kite, drunk as a lord, with recent bruises, hickeys and red eyes that told he has been crying. 

 

Tony would never disrespect Peter like that, he still can see a family boy, that likes going to the cinema with friends and buying Paninis at a corner of Queens, with a 'normal' life.

 

So when he answered the call of the boy, late night and tired as shit, he smiled secretly and picked his less striking car to go pick him up from whatever motel adress he texted him and forget about his ex-wife and how she could never leave his balls alone.

 

-

 

"Cand we get McDonald's?."

 

Tony frowned and caressed the ankle of the foot resting on his lap, "I don't think there's a McDonald's opened at this hour." 

 

"Yeah, it is," Peter said looking up from his phone, "It's opened 24 hours." 

 

The older man couldn't help tracing his brown eyes at the the other's naked lower body, the grey shirt he was wearing barely covered his crotch, he looked up sharply when his brain processed the answer, "And since when is that?."

 

"Uh, since you decide to eat lobster for breakfast," The boy rolled his eyes with a small smile, accommodating himself more against the door and window.

 

"No, I remember McDonald's closing at a certain hour," Tony raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

 

"Who eats in McDonald's more than you do?," Peter asked, moving his other foot and resting it on his lap too, accidentally hitting the steering wheel, the sound of rustling filled the car when the boy moved again his back against the door, his body seeming big in the small car.

 

"Probably you," The brown haired man shrugged, "Besides, I'm more of a Burger King man." 

 

"It sucks," The younger boy groaned and threw his head back against the window, "McDonald's is better and is even better at eleven o'clock."

 

Tony stared at him with a smirk for a moment and caressed with his hand up to the leg with fair, thin hair, stopping at his knee and rubbing it with his thumb slowly, the feet on his lap shifted slightly, digging against his left thigh, "You really want McDonald's?."

 

Peter nodded, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn and Tony took advantage to lower his eyes and gaze at the drying cum on the boy's belly, his heart jumped against his ribcage at the soft and lazy atmosphere it was left after they had sex in the car, with the boy straddling his hips on the driver's seat and moving uncomfortably against Tony and the steering wheel, but  _christ,_ he lived for those kind of moments where they hid in a dark corner of the The Bronx streets and breath eachother in, he lived for the just  _Tony_ and  _Peter_.

 

"Yes, I really fucking want McDonald's." 

 

The brown eyed man looked up and saw a big smile with big teeth, he closed his eyes with a snorted and smile, "Then we're really gonna get fucking McDonald's." 

 

Peter sat down straight and searched in the floor of the car until Tony saw him grabbing his underwear, "Wait," He squeeze his ankle softly to draw his attention, "McDonald's is opened 24 hours, let's not rush it." 

 

The young boy sighed and dropped his underwear on his lap, "Natasha gave me a curfew, Tony." 

 

"I know that, she always does. When do you have to get there?" 

 

"1:30." 

 

"We still have time, kid," The man shrugged only only one shoulder, "I'll get you there in time." 

 

Peter smiled  _softly_ and looked down, "Fine." 

 

Tony nodded and lifted one foot off his lap, he kissed his ankle twice and then held it against his chest while sending a funny stare at the boy.

 

"Ew," The other laughed.

 

"Why,  _ew_?." 

 

"My feet probably smell," The brown eyed boy faked a disgusted face and kick Tony not harshly on his chin.

 

"You never smell," Tony said,  _and_ the tone of honestly and fondness in his voice that were probably reflecting on his face too scared him just a little, he mumbled and looked infront of him, "You're always perfect to me." 

 

The silence besides an _indie_  song -Tony guessed- that the radios stations only played in late hours when almost nobody would hear, was the only sound echoing in the car windows, it was low and like a whisper, tender and calming, he wasn't worried that he overstepped a line because Peter never freaks out when he speaks with thinking, the boy just answer by giving the man small pecks in his neck or -like now- grab his hand.

 

Tony dropped carefully his feet on his lap again and gave his hand away to the other, he watched with short breaths Peter snuggling his face against his opened palm, until his hand was trapped in between his cheek and shoulder, the soft brown eyes closed and the kiss the boy gave him on the inside of his wrist made him sigh.

 

The older man didn't want to speak, to move or blink but his thumb caressed the soft cheek, slowly, catching the single tear rolling down with freedom.

 

Peter opened his eyes, red and wet, he pushed his hand away and move it towards his chest, resting it there for a second and Tony had the opportunity to feel his rapid heartbeat, but it was gone when the boy started to guide his hand lower and lower, the action so small that almost passed unnoticed by him, his fingers twitched against the other's stomach and he moved it all the way untill he was resting on his crotch, the boxers on Peter's lap blocking the  _skin_ and  _skin_ contact.

 

Tony rubbed his hardening cock roughly through the black fabric and watched in delight his soft brown eyes fluttered but never closing and never breaking eye contact, the flat stomach that haunted his dreams, flexed once as he welcomed the touches.

 

"Tony," Peter spread his legs and his hips pushed up.

 

"Shh," The older man whispered and moved his hand slowly but roughly on his cock.

 

"I-," The boy tried to pushed his hand away but the man hardened his grip and his own cock throbbed against his jeans when Peter gasped and closed his eyes, "Are you gonna fuck me?" 

 

"No," Tony mumbled and the reason why he wasn't going to fuck him again went unmentioned, the reason of why he didn't want to touch him again in order to not hurt him, he didn't mention either that he noticed the fresh bruises and scratches on the boy's legs and chest, the smell of foreign, cheap cologne of  _other_ man, he wanted Peter to forget and get lost for a little while, he wasn't going to let Peter touch him  _in order_ to forget the clench on his own chest when he sees the boy more broken everytime he sees him.

 

"Lower — _ah—_ lower," The young boy breathed out tiredly and held Tony's hand and tried to moved it down as he opened his legs more.

 

It was an awkward position for Tony but the sight of his own hand throwing away the underwear back where it was and his large fingers disappearing inside of Peter and watched his muscles twitched whenever he hit that spot inside him,  _that,_ made up everything. 

 

The way Peter held Tony's wrist and helped him move it in and out of himself as he jerked himself up and down, the silent moans and breathy whispers of  _more, Tony, yes, there_ , and one leg laying in the dashboard carelessly,  _that,_ was enough to make them forget the outside and live in the now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and leave kudos:) let me know if I should make a playlist for this fic!


	4. F O U R

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You actually think you're special because Stark wants you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not glamorizing prostitution, brothels, abuse and drugs. 
> 
> There's a lot of blah blah blah in this chapter but it'll explain everything:) 
> 
> If you don't know who Obadiah Stane is, he is the enemy in Iron man, if you want want to put a face on the name, you can look it up on Google!

_"May?"_

 

_"Peter? —Jesus— is that you, honey?"_

 

_"May, I'm ok."_

 

_"No! What- are you? Where are you?"_

 

_"Don't worry, I'm fine —I just— God, I wanna let you know that everything is fine."_

 

_"Peter, where are you?"_

 

_"I'm sorry."_

 

_"Honey, please come home."_

 

_"I love you."_

 

_"Peter, don-."_

 

_"I'm sorry, May."_

 

_-_

 

His life was good before  _this_ and  ** _that_** —considering his current situation— the only issue was the lack of food and the desperation for money and income, the need for more.

 

Peter just couldn't stand his aunt's struggle and late night shifts, he  _hated_ when lied about not feeling hungry and making him eat, he hated being a burden and unhelpful. He just  _didn't_ want to stand the thought of hearing May mumbling tiredly about unpaid bills in the middle of the night, he hated to know that he was the cause of her stress, he couldn't believe that his aunt was taking good care of his nephew — _not son_. He couldn't believe her commitment to give him education, food and clothing, he loves her more than anything, but he cried too when he remembered his mother's face that resembled his own.

 

He misses _, oh,_ he misses, he misses his small bedroom back in Queens, his individual bed —that, isn't that much different from his current bed, but it was  _his_ bed, he misses the yells of his neighbor's children, the grey cat that always came at 3:AM asking with soft purrs for food, he misses the frozen food and friends, he misses May scolds when she found the grey cat on the bed, laying close to Peter, he misses the innocent kisses and touches with boys, the house parties with hidden alcohol, he misses his books,  _god,_ he misses. 

 

But, he tries not to think about it to much. 

 

The first time he stood in the dark corner of a street with winter clothes, because  _—fuck New York's coldness_.— he had shaking hands when he gripped the door handle of an old red car and his legs were unsure when he was about to hope in with a stranger; but, when he sae red hair, fair skin and soft voice told him to get out of the car, he never walked so fast in his life.

 

The women offered him a bed for the night and he thought that,  _maybe_ teenage runaways who just finished highschool didn't have to do that and go that  _way_ in selling their bodies to live day to day.

 

He was  ** _fucking_** wrong. 

 

When Peter entered Natasha's house, he found young girls and boys like him with the same lost and mortified expression, he listened to the women's instructions and directions about the place, and he  _never,_ never was forced or bribed in to staying; he didn't thought twice when all he was offered were, a bed to sleep at night, a roof to cover his clothes from soaking of the winter rain, a friend, food and  _commissions —_ even if it was the minimal. Peter stayed, promising himself it was going to be temporary. 

 

The boy remembers his first days, staying hidden in a far corner that nobody visited in the large room, he remembers the clothes he was wearing and how they still had dignity, he  _still_ remembers the girl with red eyes smiled at his nervous brown eyes and fidgetin hands, he still hears the crude, blunt and raw words the girl said to him as she handed him a glass with alcohol.

 

_—Relax, boy, you won't even notice how fast the night ends, you'll just have to give a couple of handies, blowies, do some weird shit too and maybe put out your booty—_

 

To these days Peter feels nothing more but numbness and ache in his bones, like his chest feels empty and his stomach feel shallow, his skin seemed always cold, like his flesh never seemed to be clear and his mouth alway is dry, but— the only  _exception_ , the only exception to make him forget and feel protected again is light browy eyes staring at him and  _only_ him from across the room, large hands caressing his hair, urging him to sleep, soft kisses on his shoulders and whispers of worship - _just Tony-_ just pure and only Tony Stark.

 

The man that makes him feel special, the man that answers his text in the middle of the night, the one who ask if he's alright, the one that get mad when he sees another man on Peter, the one who wants the boy to leave that house but doesn't say anything, the man that fucks him so good that it doesn't hurt, the one who stares at him with admiration and compassion, — _Tony_.

 

-

 

The air on his lungs were restricted as he buttoned his shirt with trembling fingers, the warm air of the room made drops of sweat form on his forehead, he wiped them with the back of his hand roughly, the sting of wet was threatening to appear on his eyes, he clenched his hands on his bag and turn around, he faced the small bed with rustled sheets, the man laying smugly on them with a cigarette on his mouth made Peter look down at his brown boots, he clenched and unclenched his jaw, trying to regain his posture and to make his voice come out without cracking weakly.

 

 _God—_  he just wanted to leave.

 

"Where's the money?"

 

"What money?" The man in the bed smirked, smoke coming out of his mouth.

 

"Give me the money," Peter rolled his eyes and walked towards the bed with tired steps and with a slight limp, "Or, I'll call Natasha." 

 

"No, boy," The older man chuckled and shook his head, "You're not in the position to  _demand_." 

 

"Yes, I am, sir. I'd gave you a service," The young boy raised his voice. 

 

"Hey, now. Didn't Natasha teach you manners?" The man laughed and stood up, old, aged and naked body stood before Peter. 

 

He looked down, fear and tiredness filled his body, expanding like a pill, "Please,  _Mr. Stane._ "

 

"What does Tony sees in you, boy?" 

 

Peter froze, his hand clenched his bag harder and his breath hitched quietly, his eyelids fluttered when he looked at the the blue eyes searching for his gaze, the room seem colder and the  _actual_ silence seemed to echoed in the room, he smiled and licked his tin lips as a distraction, "I don't know what do you mean, sir." 

 

" _I mean_ , yeah, you're kinda something else in there," He pointed at the bed briefly and got closer to the boy, "And, you give good head for being a boy, I'll give you that. But, really, what does my friend sees in you?" 

 

"I don't get it, sir," Peter shook his head and he clenched his eyes when his voice lowered and cracked, "I don't know what you're talking about, just give me my money." 

 

"Don't be a brat,  _Peter!_ ," Obadiah laughed, "I'm just trying to understand." 

 

The brown eyed boy slapped the other's hand away when he tried to touch his covered stomach, "We already finish, sir, just give me-." Peter didn't knew why he closed his mouth, because everything was happening so fast, he shut his eyes and he held his jaw, the sting and numb feeling that came afterwards the harsh slap, was familiar. 

 

It rang inside the four walls, hitting one another, Peter's bottom lip trembled just -almost- passing unnoticed and tears that were threatening to run free since Obadiah laid rough hands on him, fell finally, his body felt small and insecure, his hand shook against his face as he tried to form words, but his throat keep closing in desperation. The boy's head hanged low and he sniffed at the raw emotions when the man chuckled and started to dress. 

 

"You're  _just_ a little bitch, Peter," Obadiah pointed at him, "Like  _everyone else_ in that fucking place." 

 

"Please, stop," The young boy whimpered, his legs wanted to move and leave, not caring about the money anymore, but his heart raced in fear that the other man would touch him again. 

 

"You actually think you're special because Stark  _wants you?_ " 

 

The brown haired boy took a deep breath and forced his tears to stop until he was only left with shaky hands and hot cheek, he stared blankly at a lamp illuminating the dark room. 

 

_"Answer me, damnit!"_

 

Peter jumped and quickly shook his head, the urge to denie everything Obadiah was saying was longer lost, the urge to tell him that it was all lies —That he actually didn't know Tony, just for the sake to keep  _their_ secret of seeing eachother, it was erased, only his body was filled with remorse and guilt, he didn't know how it scalate so fast. He was only planning on going through the night with this man that Natasha introduced as a  _—Rich business man and, -behave, Peter-._ But he waa tired and high on cocaine that at the same time made him activate, but it was all crushed when Obadiah started touching him with the hands of a depraved man. 

 

"Are you gonna tell Natasha?" 

 

Obadiah scoffed ans finished tucking his shirt inside his pants, "Listen, kid, I don't give a damn what you do with Stark or anyone for  _that_ matter. You're a whore of the night, so that's what you're supposed to be doing." 

 

Peter was about to speak, his frown and clenched fist passed unnoticed. 

 

"I only took you tonight to see if I was missing something that Tony was doing, but,  _I was wrong!."_ The older man gave a drunk laugh, "You just have to know that Tony will move on from dragging a prostitute in his car and buying him dinner." 

 

The boy gaped and the ultimate question clouding his mind was,  ** _who the actual fuck was this guy?_**

 

"Here, kid," Obadiah sighed and dropped a few bills on the bed carelessly, "Keep doing what you're doing." 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. F I V E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Kid, look at me, sweetheart," Tony searched for his eyes, voice amazingly tender and soft, sounding odd in comparison of minutes ago.
> 
>  
> 
> "I fucking hate you,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll dedicate this chapter too WeepingDesdemona for helping me so much, love you! 
> 
> Sorry for the delay! Vacations are over and school sucks, the good new is that I got an spider man folder lol
> 
> Hope you enjoy:)
> 
> Holy shit, this chapter is really long, like, I couldn't stop my fingers from moving lol. Sorry guys.
> 
> Serious drama is about to happen in the following chapters.
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes.
> 
> Warnings: drug use, mentions of alcohol, sexual content and swearing -lots of swearing-.

Peter knew what it mean the face Natasha made at him when he saw him sneaking in late and with a red - _almost_ purple- jaw and wet jacket; his whole body throbbed and his steps were slow, he could still feel the stares people gave him at the subway, he could still feel the man with a black case  _and_ with a wedding ring pressed against his back while breathing in at the boy's neck discretely, he  _could_ still feel a hand touching the side of his thigh. Peter elbowed him and moved through the tight space in between people till he was next to the wide window and he got to look through the dark sky when they passed Brooklyn so,  _ ~~~~ **cheers.**_

 

The night was pretty and quiet. At least it wasn't raining but it was fucking cold, _God,_ it was; he clenched the pockets of his jacket and lowered his head when cool breeze blew around him. When a few cars passed by the sidewalk with loud music and happy yells, his mind got distracted from thinking to much for a few seconds, but it all went back to the rough slap on his jaw and blunt words that made him unable to control his tears back in the cheap motel room. He still could smell cigarettes on the beige bed sheets.

 

Peter could call Tony and ask him to pick him up, but his willpower of doing it was cracking up, he desperately wanted to see the man's car and smile as he opens the door, he wanted him to turn on the heater and rub a large hand on his leg and kiss his hands several times to warm him up. 

 

 _But,_ he wasn't feeling like giving an explanation at his red cheek and bruised thighs, he didn't felt like watching Tony punch something —whatever that was near him— out of rage and ask continually what the fuck happened, he didn't wanted to see Tony giving him the sad eyes and pitiful stare as he asks, almost in a broken whisper,  _why do you keep doing this, sweetheart?._

 

He just couldn't stand that tonight, he  _refused_ to watch the disappointed look on the brown eyes thay drives him mad.

 

But,  _goddamnit,_ he craved the soft touches too, the small rubs on his warm cheek, Tony's hand spreading Peter's legs wide and kissing were it hurt the most, licking at his bruised thighs and red flesh, making come apart so quickly until que forgets the last man's face he has been with and just think about Tony and  _only_ Tony, until Peter can only see the wide smile and calloused hands, the intelligent talk and the way it made the boy feel flattered, Peter wanted his warmth as the man hugs him to calm his slow crying and broken mumbles —All of that _always_ came after Tony picked him up from a rough hour, saw the bruises and whispered that it all was going to be ok.

 

 _God no_ , he won't call Tony right now, even if he craves that calm.

 

-

 

_"Where the hell were you?"_

 

Peter sighed and didn't turned around from looking inside the fridge, "I lost track of time. Sorry." 

 

"You've been coming home late the last few weeks, Peter. Is there something you want to tell me?" She said firmly.

 

"No, sorry," The young boy shook his head and shrugged, "Is just— I keep forgetting to look at the time."

 

"Did you attend your appointment?," The women asked and Peter wanted to scoff at the way Natasha  _always_ kept the vocabulary formal and professional —as like she was asking if he attended the doctor's appointment like a good mother—.

 

"Yes," The boy mumbled and grabbed an apple, "I'll give you the money in a minute."

 

"How'd it go? It's the first time Mr. Stane books you." 

 

"It went good," He lied and tensed when Natasha turned him around unexpectedly, he lowered his head and pretend to clean the apple with his shirt. 

 

The red haired woman made him look up with a finger under his chin, "It went  _good?"_ She said as he looked shortly at his jaw and cheek. 

 

"It was nothing," Peter chuckled, "We got caught up in the moment." 

 

The women frowned at him and pursed his lips, "He did this?" 

 

The young boy looked down before nodding slowly, the cold air in the room made him shiver and Peter's hands held his jacket to hug his body tighter.

 

"It's not the first time," She grabbed his jaw and inspected the forming bruise again, " _Oh, hunny."_

 

"It's nothing."

 

"He always send up my girls and boys damaged," Natasha pulled away and shook his head, "But, you know —Clients like  _him_  don't really mean the things they do, sweety. They just—," She sighed, "They just don't think before acting, they're repressive people that when they see a naked, young body, they lose control." 

 

Peter stared at her with an emotionless expression, opening his mouth to agree but he ended up nodding effortlessly.

 

"Did he hurt you somewhere else that I should know?" The red haired woman raised an eyebrow ans crossed his arms, the fluffy white robe she was wearing crushed under hands.

 

"No," He sighed, ignoring the dull pain on his leg and abdomen, ignoring the urge to tell everything away and cry like a lost baby, "I'm just  _fine._ "

 

Natasha breathed out and gazed at him with green eyes, she spoke bluntly, "How are you doing down there? You think you can work tomorrow?"

 

The boy coughed and shifted uncomfortably and — _ **No! His ass hurt like hell and he could barely walk without wincing in pain**_ —, "Not bad, I just have to rest."

 

"Take a hot shower, I fixed the heater today. It'll help," She nodded and smiled sadly, "Don't take personal what they do, ok?" 

 

"Yes," The brown haired boy whispered, and dropped the apple on the counter.

 

"Now, put on some ice and sleep, Peter," The woman squeezed his arm briefly and began to walk out of the kitchen, "Long day tomorrow." 

 

Peter nodded and watched her disappearing by the corner, the new found silence consumed him, the engine of the fridge echoed in the walls, he stared for a long minute where Natasha was standing before him, his jaw clenched unconsciously as he let out a drowned gasp before he could stop himself, it sounded hurtful and unfamiliar to his ear as his stomach clenched and tears started falling fleetly down his cheeks, running in hot streaks towards his neck. Peter muffled the sounds on his sleeve, whimpering and sniffing, leaving the fabric wet and wrinkled, his chest constricted in desperation when he slided down the fridge until he was sitting down on the cool floor, the pain on his lower body was on the back on his mind as he concentrated in keeping his cries from sounding too loud.

 

" _Fuck,_ " Peter breathed in shakily, heart threatening to break against hus ribcage.

 

The boy hugged his knees loosely, giving big sighs, the tears were stopping gently but the wetness on his face was still there —All the emotions, second thoughts, body pain, rough sex, motel rooms, cheap bed and expensive cigarettes got him crying, coming in like a giant wave, when Natasha finished talking to him. The way she was concerned about him -in her  _own_ fucked up way- and the way she didn't seem to care at the same time as she spoke, made him question his validity, made him miss a motherly figure to hug him and encourage him.

 

It made him miss his aunt with all his heart and it made him desire to pack his few things and run to the big,  _big_ house of the man that can calm him down.

 

But, he ~~can't~~ wouldn't do that.

 

-

 

The atmosphere was heavy and it was clouded with smoke and loud laughs, he could se Liz chatting up with a polite smile with a middle-aged man -he wasn't that disgusting- the warm air floating around made the tight leather shorts he was wearing stick uncomfortably on his skin, making it itchy. Peter wiped the sweat of his face carefully, trying to avoid the bruise, it wasn't that visible but it extended just until it reach the corner of his eye, he just wanted the ice covered in a cloth that Liz gave him this morning with a sad stare and a brush on his hair.

 

Peter's head buzzed and the noise seem too loud when he leaned over the table to snort the white dope that the man around him placed there carelessly; he did two lines until his nose burned, his heart went rapid and he started welcoming the feeling of euphoria and high energy circling around his veins. The boy slumped back against the chest he was leaning on and sit properly on the man's lap again, he turned his face away when he caught Tony's eyes staring with acerbity from across the table at the hand on Peter's stomach, playing with the thin fabric that drew eyes to his young body.

 

"That good, boy?" The man laughed against his ear and pointed at the cocaine laying in the table.

 

Peter twisted his body, hugging the other's shoulders, trying to forget the brown eyes on the back of his head, "What was your name?"

 

The older man chuckled, "Clint, boy. I've already told you like three times." 

 

"Mr. Clint, then?," The boy smiled, staring into the grey blue eyes, recognizing the man since earlier as one of Tony's friends, when he  _saw Tony_ with a girl already by his side, smiling and laughing; Peter's heart jumped and his hand clenched in impetuosity at the sight. He saw Clint alone with his favorite addiction in front of him and sat down on his lap freely, making an scene to attract the brown eyes that,  _oh,_ they  _did_ get attracted, digging dangerous stares at them, moving away whenever the girl got close to kiss his cheek. Peter chest hurt but the alcohol made him numb too.

 

"Just Clint, Peter." 

 

Clint fucked him hard in the wide bathroom of the brothel — _Thank God_ Natasha wasn't there to scold him for not going to a proper room or for doing  _it_ with a man without being booked, but,  _ **fuck that**_ — he dragged the man there and bend over the sink, adrenaline running fast in his blood. Peter ached to be touched and Clint reminded him of Tony -not the same- but similar strong hands on his hips and deep kissing that, it actually got Peter hard and moaning against the water tap. 

 

The boy thought about Tony when they were in the bathroom, feeling rage, guilt and sadness all at once, but he kept forgetting,  _shit,_ he kept forgetting when Clint pulled at his hair and made him look at the mirror to watch himself being fuck in a fast speed, he could feel the red marks on his hip bones when they made impact with the expensive marble and he clenched the sides of it, pushing his hips back almost dumbly, but he didn't care, not when the man made him come without touching him at all.

 

**_Tony._ **

 

 _God,_ he wanted Tony. 

 

Peter still couldn't forget the brown eyes closing when the boy inhaled the white drug, his frown when Peter didn't stopped drinking and taking all the lines Clint was preparing him with a big smile as he chatted with his friends. The boy  _couldn't_ forget the disappointed gaze thrown at him when he let Clint feel him up entirely and infront of everyone, sighing and leaning his back his hazy head, welcoming the foreign hands on his body  _and_ adknowled the yells and whistles directed to Clint when the saw him 'caressing' the  _pretty boy_ sitting on his lap.

 

The younger boy pretended not to notice Tony pushing the girl away and standing up like mad man and he pretended  _again_ not to notice the man watching him from a corner when he entered the bathroom with Tony's friend by his hand. 

 

He _just_  ignored the hard pain on his chest and drying tears when he laid down on his bed that night, realizing that Tony wasn't waiting for him when he finished his shift. 

 

-

 

  _"Hey."_

"Tony." 

_"Hey, kid."_

Peter sighed and held his phone closer to his ear, he hesitated for a bit before mumbling, "Are you ok?" 

_"Are you?"_

"Why did you left last night? We were supposed to meet up when I finished—."

 _"When you finished fucking my friend?,"_ The man's voice sounded distant and unbothered through the speaker, " _Huh, Peter?"_

"You were with someone too!" 

" _Listen, I'm not talking this kind of crap through a fucking phone and I'm certain—."_

"Then pick me up, Tony." Peter closed his eyes as he bit the sleeve of his hoodie, "So we can talk."

_"I don't know, I'm kinda busy with work."_

"Tony, please, I'm begging you. Can we talk? Just leave someone to do your work. You've done it plenty of times for me," The boy raised his voice, "Why not now?"

_"Why are you so stubborn, I've—."_

"Please," Peter sniffed, his voice cracking, a few tears falling down when Tony raised his voice as well. 

A sigh sounded from the other line,  _"Kid, don't do that, come on."_

"I just wanna talk." 

A few seconds -that felt like minutes- of silence passed before Tony spoke with a firm voice that he barely uses with Peter.

_"Where are you?"_

 

-

 

The time Peter waited for Tony to arrived, he sitting in the cold sidewalk, fingers playing with his bottom lip to subside his mind from thinking to much. He ignored the drunk kids that whistled at him and told him to join him —Peter  _ignored_ the fact that he  _is_ supposed to hang out with that kind of kids on a Saturday night and he _isn't_  supposed to be waiting for an exorbitant car and a man older than him to maybe fuck?— But,  ** _what are the odds?_**.

 

He run to cross the street and got in the car that honked at him; he hasn't seen that car yet but he knew it was Tony's. Peter was welcomed by warm air and — _Of course, Led Zeppelin_ playing lowly— he smiled tightly with closed lip when Tony nodded at him. Peter looked down when the man gazed at his clothes shortly.

 

"Do you come from being with  _someone?"_

 

"No, today is my free day, remember?" The brow haired boy rolled his eyes, sticking his hands inside the pockets of his worned out hoodie.

 

"Right," Tony mumbled and started the car, joining the small traffic of New York that forms at 9:53 PM, "Jesus, kid. Is that all you're wearing? You're gonna freeze, is fucking cold tonight," He said directing the ventils throwing warm air at the boy.

 

"Thanks."

 

Peter was about to speak or lower the volume — _Anything_ to avoid the uncomfortable silence, that  _never_ was between them. They always had something to say, wether Peter telling him eagerly about a recent movie he just saw o the newest comic he just read with Liz, making Tony laugh and smile widely _or_ wether the older man was filling the silence with sarcastic - _narcissist-_ comments and making fun of Peter's choice of music. But, right now it was only they're breathing and—.

 

"So,  _you_ wanted to talk?"

 

The brown haired boy turned to face him, frowning at the bored tone in the man's voice, "Are you angry?" 

 

"Why would I be?" 

 

"Tony,  _stop it_ ," Peter sighed and touched the hand holding the gear.

 

"What  _exactly_ do I need to  _stop?,_ " Tony raised his eyebrows and lifted the hand that Peter was holding as in question, "I'm lost here, Peter." 

 

"You know what, Tony!" The younger boy groaned, "Stop acting like  _that._ "

 

"Like  _what,_ kid? Talk to me properly," The brown haired man mumbled calmly as he kept looking at the street before him.

 

The boy sighed and clenched his eyes, "Why did you left _me_  yesterday?"

 

Tony laughed, "Because, you seemed like you were having fun—  _No_ , scratch that—  _Lots_ of fun, kid." 

 

"You don't fucking know. I was just doing my job."

 

"By fucking Clint? My friend,  _meh,_ business partner." He shrugged, gripping the steering wheel harder.

 

"Why do you even care?" Peter mumbled, looking away to stare at the others cars passing quickly.

 

" _Because, kid!_ I saw you snorting  _fucking_ cocaine like a fucking champ!," The older man yelled slightly, but enough to make the boy jump, "And it was fucking painful to watch you do that  _and_ I just couldn't stand and look at you being passed around like a fucking cigarette, because  _you_ were too intoxicated to even react."

 

"You're an asshole. Pull over," The boy sniffed and pulled at the door handle, glaring when the man locked the door, "Pull the fuck over!"

 

"Goddamnit," Tony reached over and grabbed Peter's arm that was pulling rapidly at the handle, he held his wrist and squeeze it hard, making the boy turn around and slap his arm, "Stop behaving like a kid, Peter. I'm being serious, you're gonna make me crash."

 

Peter turned stopped moving abruptly and pointed at the door, " _Then,_ let me out."

 

"Why don't you behave like a fucking grown up like you did yesterday, huh?" The man's brown eyes stared at him before parking briefly infront of a store, making the boy move forward at the force he stepped on the break, "Why don't you fucking  _grow a pair_ right now, like you did yesterday? Getting shit into your body and spreading your legs to half of the fucking  _brothel!_ "

 

"Why are you getting like this?" The younger yelled angrily before punching with his fist the dashboard grimly, he turned to look at the man with tears forming in the corner of his eyes, " _I'm a fucking prostitute_ _!_ What the fuck did  _you_ expected? A fucking tight virgin that blushes when you kiss them!"

 

Peter sniffed and barely noticed Tony's hand grabbing his own that hit the hard surface, "Because  _I'm not, Tony!_ And I'm  _sorry."_

 

"Peter, plea—."

 

" _I'm sorry,_ " The boy whispered and wiped his cheek roughly, "I'm sorry that I'm fucking disgusting and I'm not one of your fancy supermodels, I'm—."

 

"Baby —Hey, hey— Listen."

 

"I'm a fucking mess, Tony," Peter sobbed loudly and let the man take his trembling hand in his, fondling the red knuckles with his thumb, "I—."

 

"Kid, look at me, sweetheart," Tony searched for his eyes, voice amazingly tender and soft, sounding odd in comparison of minutes ago.

 

"I fucking hate you," The young boy looked up, the tone on his voice unharmful as tears were still blurring his eyes, but the deep sobbing subsided to a constant sniffing.

 

The man chuckled, "No, you don't" He brought his damaged hand up, kissing delicately each flushed knuckle, kissing for a longer time where there were scratches and a bit of blood showing.

 

"Tony."

 

Tony looked down, bringing his hand down to rest it on his lap and caressed it lightly, he coughed, "I'm sorry, kid."

 

"Why?—."

 

"I'm  _sorry_ for being a dick. You don't deserve it, Peter," The man winced, shaking his head, he spoke lowly, " _You don't._ "

 

Peter leaned over, taking his hand away, only to bring Tony's arm to wrap around his shoulder, until he was awkwardly leaning on the man, the gear digged on the back of his leg, but he didn't care when he felt Tony's hand holding his shoulder, "I didn't like how you talked to me."

 

"I know," Tony kissed the top of his head and then rested his cheek there, "I'm sorry." 

 

"Sorry I fucked up yesterday," The boy begun, but he stopped when the other man's hand fondled his stomach tenderly, drawing lazy patterns with his thumb.

 

"I fucking  _hate_ to see you being disrespected in that goddamn place." 

 

Peter didn't find his voice to talk because he felt a lump on his throat forming and his lips wobbled just a bit, he nodded and got closer.

 

"I'm gonna get you out of that place soon, kid."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRAMA between Peter and Tony!!!
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos!
> 
> Feel free to check out my other story with Tony and Peter.  
> Peter is cute as hell too, you guys;)


	6. S I X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter pushed him away roughly and landed on the ground loudly, "Are you fucking with me?" 
> 
> "No!," The man said and held the boy's shoulders, "Take whatever you need and—."
> 
> "You're just saying it," The boy sniffed and pushed at his chest, "You are just fucking saying it, Tony. You don't mean it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys:)
> 
> Warnings: Drama and Peter loving McDonald's.

The screeching sound of the air conditioner was low, rumbling in for walls and floor, it was mixed in between with the little sounds and dainty whispers that were clouding Tony's mind and driving him mad. His jaw ached and his hands held tightly the thin legs that were hovering over his shoulders lazily, he caressed affectionately the soft skin whenever the boy mumbles dumbly — _And,_ he digged his fingers in the skin whenever the boy yelp excitedly.

 

The man's felt intoxicated in the scent of the other's, feeling all his senses — _Sweet like cinnamon and strawberries mixed with just the right amount of boyish shampoo—_ he delivered long licks and small nibbles to the boy's opening, sucking until he made it swollen and red.

 

He looked up, watching the boy's stomach trembling and flexing, the night lamp send an opaque shade to his young features and Tony almost groaned at his facial expressions  _screaming_ pleasure and his hand gripping and softening on the cotton bed sheets.

 

" _Like that,_ " Peter gasped, the sound startling the man, "Just like that, Tony." 

 

Tony pulled at his legs to get him closer, moving Peter effortlessly down the bed, until he could barely breathe against his warm skin. His beard scratched painfully against his arse, and the man knew how the boy was going to complain in a text the day after. The wet sounds and accelerated breaths accompanied with little sighs were becoming persistent in the nebulous atmosphere, remanding them of the long night the had ahead, without business calls or a  _goddamn curfew._ The had the whole night to forget and enjoy eachother's presence — to  ** _pretend_** _._

 

To pretend that everything was fine.

 

"God — _Uh!—_ do that again," The boy whined, throwing his head back and his back lifted just slightly from the bed. 

 

"Oh, sweetheart," Tony sighed against him, licking inside him persistently, like he knew it drove Peter into using a careless vocabulary, encouraging him to keep going and to never wanting to stop.

 

The older man ignored the painful hard-on that was rubbing against his trousers and the bed, his didn't even care to undress properly when they arrived to the hotel room —Because, there was  _no way_ he was going to pay for a cheap motel and lay Peter in a filthy bed. He just cared to leave the boy's flesh in view to his admiring eyes, he just cared to cover the body and sweet kisses, to lick softly the bruises and marks, and he  _just_ cared to open the boy's legs widely and move his lips and tongue were Peter asked the most 

 

The air was warm when Peter gripped his hair locks, pushing his head more in between his leg, hips pushing up desperately and Tony thought he was going to die right there, in the middle class hotel room —They had to maintain a certain profile,  _but,_ it wasn't a rusty motel—, he thought he was going to die from just listening to the other's sounds, from feeling his movements and watching his body twitching, he moved his mouth faster, chasing the moans and sighs that resounded in his ears–.

 

" _Tony_."

 

The man hummed.

 

" _Wake up_."

 

Tony snapped his eyes open, blinking and raising his eyebrows at the natural dimmed light coming out of the window, he wasn't even sure if the sun was out yet but his eyes catch brown eyes staring at him, he could see the freckles and thick lashes on the other's face, dry thin lips smiled at his way.

 

"Are you ok?," Peter poked his cheek.

 

The older man nodded and sighed, hugging his middle and pulling him closer, "What time is it?"

 

"I don't know, but early, I guess." 

 

"Why did you wake me up, kid?," He groaned, nuzzling his face against the pillow, "My head fucking hurts."

 

The boy rested on his elbow and looked down at him, "I don't know, you were having nightmares or something."

 

Tony scoffed and closed his eyes, " _Nightmares._ "

 

"And you were moving too much and that woke me up. You kicked me like two times," Peter smiled widely, slapping the man's shoulder.

 

"Sorry," The brown eyed man kissed his forearm.

 

" _Not_ forgiven, sir," The younger boy raised his eyebrows and lay down again, "You'll have to buy me a Big Mac." 

 

Tony accepted the arm hugging his neck tightly and lips grazing his jaw, "I'll by you every goddamn thing in McDonald's menu."

 

Peter pulled away abruptly and kissed his lips once, licking softly and then whispering against them, "You gave me beard burn where I shouldn't have beard burn." 

 

"Is that so?," The man mumbled, fondling with his thumb the soft cheek before him.

 

"But,  _I like it,_ " The boy closed his eyes.

 

Tony hummed, "I bet you do."

 

"Do it again?" Peter giggled slightly, bitting the hand on his cheek.

 

"Let me wake up properly first, kid," The closed his eyes, "And then, I'll do my business under the sheets."

 

Peter groaned, "Old man."

 

" _And then,_ I'll do my business in between your pretty legs. How does that sound?" The brown eyed man chuckled when the boy groaned again and turned around, resting his back against his chest, "Or, we can just fall sleep?  _Again?_ —I prefer that right now, honestly—."

 

"Want me to get you some Viagra?," The boy's laugh echoed loudly in the room when Tony bit his shoulder and hugged his waist harshly.

 

"Brat." 

 

His eyes closed unwittingly, his arms felt heavy and he relaxed his senses when his nose breathed in the smell of Peter's hair, kissing shortly the back of his head. Tony felt the boy took his hand and played with his fingers, he hummed in satisfaction when the boy dragged grazed tenderly his nails up and down his arm, raising goosebumps behind, his hugged him closer, naked skin against naked skin,  _but —_ There wasn't anything sexual between them, they weren't hinting anything for the moment, nor did their bodies were getting warm or agitated, they were just enjoying eachother's breathing and chest raising slowly accompanied with soft caresses.

 

And Tony felt like his heart was ripping in two at the _pure_ and  _unique_ adoration he was feeling and that was  _so_ scary.

 

-

 

The air was dense, his hands were shaking and he kept shaking his head no whenever someone tried to sit on his lap and laugh in his ear drunkenly. His drink was getting warm on the glass, sweating against the palm of his hand as he talked and laughed with all the men sitting around the tables. Tony's eyes connected from time to time with the brown eyes, he forced himself from standing, putting his jacket over Peter's uncovered shoulders and making him stand up from where he was sitting beside a young man. He declined  _all_ illegal substances that were put infront of him, the itching inside him telling him to just inhale the coke laying tentatively in the wide table, _tempting_ him into just bending his head to ignore for a while the fact that Peter wasn't with him at the moment, but he waved his hand slightly at his friends - _business partners-_ when they offered it to him.

 

Tony wanted to stay sober and be there for the boy when he finished for the night and he could be with him for a little while before Natasha could announce that the night  _is_ officially over and — _Tony, you can come tomorrow. My boys and girls need to rest—_ He wanted to be in his whole senses to kiss the boy's swollen lips and whisper promises in his ear, wiping tenderly the few tears dropping discretely on soft skin and held tightly the other's body against his.

 

The man was about to stand up, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him and the chair next to him moved, "Mind if I join you?" 

 

Tony turned his head, catching blue eyes immediately, he sighed and settled down again, "Obadiah." 

 

" _Anthony!,"_ The other man said excitedly and raised his arms, "I haven't see you here lately."

 

"Yeah — _Well—,"_ He scoffed, "Sometimes I've got things more important than spend my time in  _this_ place."

 

Obadiah laughed and shook his head, "Is that so? What about that pretty and _only_  thing you take upstairs everytime you show your ass here, Tony?"

 

Tony smiled tightly, taking a sip of the warm liquor, "You haven't change a bit." 

 

"Now, Anthony," The older man ignored his comment and slapped his back once, "How you've been?"

 

"Excellent."

 

"Is Pepper alright?" 

 

The brown haired man chuckled and pointed his glass at him, " _You_ should know." 

 

"Easy know, Anthony," Obadiah mumbled and smirked, "Did you forget the good old days where we would all go to my house in the Hamptons?"

 

"How could I?" Tony said boredly, trying to get the man to stand up and leave him alone with the others. He turned his head distractedly, looking for brown eyes again, trying to reassure himself with the easy gaze and small smiles that the boy showed him from across the room; he listened vaguely the other talk nonsense and laugh while drinking long sips, he nodded and rolled his eyes when the man turned his head to cough.

 

"Could you imagine that?" 

 

The brown eyed man raised his eyebrows, "What was that?" 

 

"Could you imagine, Anthony?," Obadiah started, "Bringing  _that_ kid to my goddamn house —Instead of my dear Pepper," He laughed throatily.

 

"Don't talk about him, Obadiah," Tony murmured and gulped down drink quickly, then he slammed the glass on the table.

 

" _And,_ since when do you date little gold digger whores?" He sucked from the cigarette on his hand, "You've got heart eyes for that sweet thing of yours."

 

"Yeah —Hey, I didn't really saw the point in you telling Pepper about it," Tony pressed his lips together, ignoring the crude words and focusing on the remaining liquor in his glass, "I don't tell — _ **Nor do I care**_ — who you fuck around with in Natasha's business."

 

"I'm not anyone's ex-husband, Tony," Obadiah raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

 

" _Still—._ "

  
"He isn't that big of a deal, you know, Anthony?," Obadiah smirked, taking a sip of his glass, "I don't know — _God—_ if it's because my personal preference is pussy or just the kid didn't impress me?"

  
  
"What do you mean?" The older man snapped his head at him and clenched his fist, the inevitable coming —His  _worst_ nightmare sneaking into his mind painfully, making want to breath in and out quickly, the sound in the big room echoed far away on his ears as he only could focus on the suggestive words of Obadiah telling him he already fucked Pe —  _Dear God, ple—._

 

"I mean, _yeah,_ he screams like a little bitch and gives a shitty dirty talk — That somehow gets you going," He shrugged, "But, from man to man, I don't understand _how the hell_ you're fucking that kid over your wife, Anthony."

 

Tony closed his eyes and breathed in, "Please, don't talk about him, Obadiah. I swear—."

 

"I mean no harm from my opinion.  _You_ know that," The man said, "I just wanna help you as a friend, to help you see clearly through things and make you realize tha-."

 

"Shut the crap off, Obadiah," The man laughed sarcastically, "You stopped being my friend the moment you wanted to start fucking my wife. If you excuse me," He was about to stand up harshly but a hand on his shoulder stopped him abruptly and made him sat down again.

 

" _He_ yelled my name he yells yours and yells another ten more man's name, Anthony," Obadiah sighed and looked at him, "It's what he _does,_ it's his job, goddamnit!  _So,_ if you think you're his first and only love, you're fucking clueless. I mean look at him."  

 

Tony turned his head, shrugging off the hand on his shoulder roughly and looked at what the man was pointing at, he stared longingly at the familiar sight of Peter sitting and laughing in a different man's lap with a cigarette on his hand, talking with the others and letting himself being caressed heroically. Tony clenched his jaw and his eyes darted away, he drank the last bit of alcohol on his glass, it burned his throat and he felt light-headed when he stood up, chair scratching against the floor.

 

"Don't fucking touch him, talk or  _even look_ at him again," Tony lowered his body to speak deeply against the man's ear, "I will fuck your company over  _and—_ You know I can, Stane. Mark my words. Don't fucking het near to him  _ever_ again."

 

Obadiah lowered his head and chuckled nodding, "Don't give yourself a hard time, Anthony. That kid didn't leave any desire in me."

 

Tony slapped his back firmly and smiled tightly when the men around them were starting to stare at their tense conversation, " _Do not go near him."_

 

He salute at his partners and walked towards the opposite direction.

 

-

 

" _I've got like fifteen minutes_."

 

Tony hummed against the boy's mouth, caressing softly the boy's thighs around his waist as he pinned him harshly over the wall. His forehead was sweating constantly and he felt like suffocating at the closed and hot space from the bathroom, he kept licking into his mouth and kissing his neck, but his mind was wondering away, his movements becoming distracted, making Peter grip his hair to concentrate again.

 

"I've got fifteen minutes before Natasha calls my shift over for the night," Peter breathed against his mouth and grinded slowly on him, he smiled, "We can have a quick one."

 

The older man nodded, letting the boy peck his neck wetly, he looked at the mirror beside them, gazing gracefully at the glitter shining against the other's fair skin and the tight dark clothes that Tony always makes sure to tell Peter that he likes him more in normal clothes, but — ** _Damn him,_** he secretly admires the vestment that got him salivating and kissing harder— He looked up and stared at his own eyes, gazing warily at how tired the look and feeling ashamed of where he currently was, groping the boy that didn't belonged to be in a just  _a quick fuck_ in a fucking bathroom, the boy that belonged to be in Tony's bed and wake up warm in expensive blankets, the boy that  _deserved_ to be kissed lovingly and to be fucked mildly for once.

 

Tony pulled away with a heavy pant and rested his forehead against his.

 

"What's wrong with you?" The boy mumbled and held the sides of his face to make him face him again, "Don't you  _want_ me?"

 

The brown haired man shook his head briskly, pushing the brown curls back and kissing his sweaty forehead longingly, "Do you have a lot of stuff here?" 

 

Peter frowned, "What?"

 

"Do you a lot of stuff here?" He repeated.

 

"Like-."

 

" _Like,_ clothes, books, shoes —I don't know.  _Anything—._ "

 

"Not really, no," The younger boy made a confused face and looked at him weirdly, softening the grip on his shoulders, "What's up with you?" 

 

"Gather them and I'll pick you up tomorrow," Tony whispered, " _Please,_ I can't keep watching you here—."

 

Peter pushed him away roughly and landed on the ground loudly, "Are you fucking with me?" 

 

" _No!,_ " The man said and held the boy's shoulders, "Take whatever you need and—."

 

"You're just saying it," The boy sniffed and pushed at his chest, " _You are_ just fucking saying it, Tony. You don't mean it."

 

"Listen, listen — _Hey!—_ look at me," Tony held his face, watching the wet eyes and shaking bottom lip, "Baby— I'm dead serious. I made you a promise a month ago and  _I'm_ keeping it. Please." 

 

"I can't," Peter shook his head rapidly, " _I can't!_ What about Natasha? I have friends here, Tony. I can't just leave." 

 

"I'll fix everything with Natasha and you can still see your, god — _Please,_ _sweetheart._ Let me get you out of this place.—"

 

"What about—," Peter whispered but was stopped by Tony kissing him quickly.

 

" _Anything,_ " The man mumbled, "What about anything. Don't think about it.  _You are_ going."

 

Peter gasped a breath out throatily and sniffed, his cheeks got wet and he nodded slowly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment your thoughts! Whenever I read the comments it makes me want to keep writing so let me know if you still wanna see more of this Xo


	7. S E V E N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He felt uneasy and surreal, but Tony smiled and his stomach twisted and it was all ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! Thank you, thank you, thank you! For all of the amazing feedback, support and love. This last chapter is dedicated to all the ones who commented their appreciation for this story, for the ones who liked it and for the ones who read it, for everyone who supported it:) I can thank you enough. 
> 
> I never thought I'll finish this, but as cheesy as it sounds, you all made it possible.
> 
> This story was short and this chapter too. Enjoy:)
> 
> Again, thank you.

The rain hit the window constantly, making a steady soft sound that accompanied the music playing in the radio, feeling in the calm silence. His head rested against the glass heavily and his warm breath made it damp, he watched with halfclosed eyes the wet streets, shiny coats and black umbrellas moving in synchronization in the  _5ft avenue._ Peter watched and stared with apathy —The feeling of emptiness on his stomach and the  _fucking disgusting **urge**_ to throw up everything that could be in his empty stomach was longer gone when he started to sniff and Tony let go of the steering wheel and held his hand tenderly, rubbing his thumb over his knuckle in just the way that made Peter calm.

 

"You're gonna be fine," The man squeezed his hand twice.

 

"I know."

 

" _We're_ gonna be fine." 

 

Peter brought the other's hand close to his lips and kissed his knuckles longingly, " _I know._ "

 

Peter ignored , _god,_  he tried so hard not to think about Liz' mumbling  _'Finally?'_ when she woke up in the early morning and caught him putting his few clothes and belongings into a duffle bag. He ignored thinking about Liz' sad smile and teary brown eyes too, when she helped him pack and gave Peter her jacket that he always borrowed to fancy occasions. She hugged him so tight and dotingly, making Peter wanting to sit back and just stay with her, because in Natasha's brothel the only person that protected him was his friend, the only one who held him and sang softly to his ear when he cried quietly whenever his chest was aching and his body felt like giving up, his friend that rocked him back and forth when a man touched and kissed him when he didn't wanted to — _Liz,_ the one that made him promise to never forget her and wait for her outside that house.

 

The atmosphere was serene and still, despite the occasional thought and remorse that made the boy look back slightly, the demanding sentence  _'Tony, turn around and let's go back',_ was — **Seriously** threatening to come out loudly and desperately. But, the light caresses on his hand that sometimes traveled to the inside of his thigh, reassuring him that;  _yeah,_ maybe everything was going to be just fine.

 

"Do you want to eat?" Tony asked, "It's early, but I'm starving."

 

"Not hungry," The younger boy shrugged and looked at him. 

 

"How does pancakes sound, huh? ~~~~_I_  make delicious pancakes, you know?," The brown eyed man pinched his thigh and wiggled his eyebrows playfully, "How about if you settle down in  _the_ house and I make you breakfast as a welcome gift?" 

 

The boy groaned lowly, " _Not hungry,_ Tony."

 

"With chocolate chips? — _And!_ Orange juice— It's boxed, but still,  _yum,"_ Tony shrugged.

 

"I just wanna sleep."

 

"You love chocolate chips, kid. I know you're not gonna resist my pancakes with  ** _probably_** eggshell."

 

Peter laughed and nodded, he leaned over and rested his head on the man's shoulder.

 

-

 

There has being only, really —A  _few_ times to Tony's house, the wide, enormous, white house in Coney Island that seemed like the house he could never have. He felt odd when he rode Tony in his hot tub bubbling satisfactorily around them -he dreamed for days how _handsome_  Tony looked with wet hair and skin- when he floated calmly after and let Tony bring him more red wine. He could still feel his cheeks getting warm when the housekeeper looked at him up and down and gave him his clothes already cleaned in the morning. And he only slept once in Tony's soft sheets and big bed.

 

 _So,_ when he entered the man's house once again, the smell and sight unfamiliar welcomed him and a smiling  _Linda_ took his bag and thin jacket, he felt uneasy and surreal, but Tony smiled and his stomach twisted and it was  _all_ ok.

 

He followed Tony into the kitchen, talking softly to eachother, their voices sounding lower than the television and the soft humming of the fridge. Peter sat in the kitchen island, watching him struggle with making breakfast; he kissed the older man's lips lustfully and longingly with the first _real_  smile of the morning when Tony gave him the asymmetrical pancakes with the  _goddamn_ chocolate chips and orange juice. They ate across from eachother, the boy watching Tony talk with a heart beating fast and hands shaking lightly.

 

His fears and hesitations started decreasing, the  _what if_ was pushed aside in his head and the ' _Damnit, old man_. _I_   _fucking love you'_ was wondering in the tip of his tonguewhen Tony was holding him firmly against the wet bathroom wall and was thrusting into him delicately, with careful movements, showing respect and mere importance; the soft brushes of lips on his neck lingered for a few minutes like the grip on his waist and legs —The forgotten bruises on his pale flesh were fondled lovingly and carefree promises were whispered against his ear. He came with a small moan and quiet sighs, the grip on Tony's shoulders became soft, the imperturbable after sex air made Peter sob and cry silently against the man's neck, the hands on his back rubbing up and down simmered him down and the soft  _shh,_ made him close his eyes tiredly as Tony washed his hair and body.

 

_No Obadiah, no Natasha, no late night shifts, no drugs and abuse._

 

Peter slept the whole afternoon, the rain soothing him into sleep and no dreams, the calm and peace that filled his body was foreign, the constant overthinking and painfully thoughts were non-existent. He drowned into the soft bed and the man's chest, the light taps of fingertips on his hip were enough to make him content when he woke up to the dark sky and warm breath on the back of his neck.

 

" _You ok, sweetheart?_ "

 

The boy hummed and turned around.

 

"Good morning."

 

"Shut up," The boy smiled and hugged his middle tightly.

 

"How are you feeling?" Tony kissed his head.

 

"Stop worrying," He whispered.

 

"You haven't talked much today," The older man mumbled, "And —Believe me, you talk a  _lot_."

 

"Shut up," The brown eyed boy repeated with a small giggle.

 

"So, what is it?" 

 

Peter looked up, gazing at the soft brown eyes, he leaned over and kissed him with closed lips, "It's gonna take some time, you know?"

 

"I know. I'll be there, Peter. The whole time."

 

"It's gonna take some time to get use to this," The boy pointed at the whole room and then at both of them, "To process it." 

 

"I know," He nodded.

 

Peter played with Tony's shirt, his eyes didn't look away from his face and he tried to memorize all the lines, freckles and scars on it, his breath landed softly on the other's chin and the boy closed his eyes again, "Is this real?" 

 

Tony smiled, "Maybe." 

 

" _Why?_ "

 

The man hummed in question and started rubbing his back.

 

"Why me? Why did you do this?" Peter's voice cracked.

 

Tony didn't answered, he pulled the boy closer, chest against chest and belly against belly, he gave tender pecks all over his face as on of his hands traveled under the boy's shirt to rub his side, leaving shiverd and sighs behind.

 

"Do you love me, Tony?," Peter caught his lips messily, their lips getting wet and bodies getting warm.

 

"Sweetheart,  _you know I do._ "

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was short and probably didn't make much sense, but I'm gonna explain everything in the next chapter. 
> 
> Sex next chap;)


End file.
